Who am I really?
by scrappyismine
Summary: When they rescued Harry, he was severely abused and starved. When they tried to help him, they couldn't. So Dumbledore wiped his memory. The only problem is, he didn't lose his memories completely.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter ran down the corridors of Hogwarts castle laughing. He had stolen an old game Snitch, which he was now trying to catch. He darted past some of the students who called out to him. He turned a corridor and ran into a black figure and fell backwards, he landed on his rear-end.

"Potter!"

Harry stared up into the stern face of Severus Snape. He gave him a small smile, but this did not win the man over. Out of all the people at Hogwarts, young Harry's innocence rarely worked on the Potion's Master. The teacher bent down and hauled the small boy up by his arm.

"What have we told you about running through the corridors, Potter?" Severus asked.

"Not to do it, but _Severus _I was chasing the Snitch! I almost had it, and then it went too high, and then I had to run, and then all the students came out of there classes, and then-"

"Where did you get a Snitch?"

Now Harry was quiet. He knew he was in trouble. The old Snitches were kept locked up. He had been curious, so he'd broken in and stolen one. He didn't think one would be missed, there were so many. He gave the teacher another smile, but again the man didn't buy it.

"I-I found it!" Harry answered.

"You know I can tell when you're lying Harry, so why do you do it?"

Severus didn't call him by his first name often. Harry just gave a small shrug but didn't answer. They walked up a flight of stone steps. Harry had a feeling they were either going to Grandpa Albus or Minerva. He hoped it would be Albus; the old wizard wasn't nearly as stern as the witch was.

"Maybe I should go get it-" Harry began and he tried to pull his arm from Severus' grip.

"I don't think so young man. You need a time-out. You're going to spend some time with Argus," Severus said.

"NO! Not Filch!"

Harry was allowed to call the staff members by their first names, but he rarely did with Argus Filch, not unless someone prompted him to. The man was bitter and usually took his problems out on everyone else. Whenever he had to watch Harry, he would force him to sit in a corner the entire time.

"Argus or Mr. Filch," Severus corrected now.

The boy however just pouted. He stared down at the floor angrily.

He had grown up in the castle, or at least that was they had told him. For some reason, he couldn't remember the first six years of his life. He could only remember the last six or so months and soon he would be seven. He didn't understand why he couldn't remember his younger childhood at all.

He felt as if he had woken up on Christmas morning at Hogwarts. He couldn't remember the time before then, he didn't remember his sixth birthday, or any birthday before that. Albus explained that many people often forgot their early childhood, but Harry didn't think he should have forgotten everything completely.

He was more or less a happy child, but sometimes at night he had really bad nightmares. Usually it featured a very large man beating him. Just the previous night he had dreamed about being thrown down the steps into a small room. It had been very much like the castle because of the stone walls, and yet he knew it wasn't Hogwarts. It was the cellar of a house… but how he knew that, he didn't know.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter features some of the abuse that went on at the Dursley's. The Dursley's are a lot worse in this story then they are in the books. They did not just decide to beat him though... you'll find out more about that in the next chapter. But he did magic a lot more in this story at their place than he did in the books.

* * *

_His hands trembled as he cut a thin branch from the tree. He didn't know what he had done wrong this time, but the large man said he needed to be whipped. He glanced around the yard; he hoped the neighbour's wouldn't figure out what it was for. He didn't want anyone to know his shame._

_He went back into the house quickly. He would be punished if he took too long. Once, he was inside, he headed down the hallway and into the kitchen. The huge man with a purple face sat at the table, he glared at Harry as he entered._

_"What the hell is that?" He snapped._

_Harry knew better than to answer. He just handed the man the switch. _

_SMACK! He was slapped across the face.  
_

_"Haven't I told you over and over again what the right size is!?"_

_SMACK!  
_

_The second slap made the boy fall into the table. He smacked his head as he went down. He tried not to cry, but he couldn't help it. This only made the man angrier. He pulled the boy up by his hair and gave him another smack across the face. Harry fell to the floor again, sobbing._

_"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT CRYING!?"_

_Crying during a beating was against the rules, even though it was hard not to. He deserved to be beaten, so he was supposed to take it without tears. __The man didn't seem to care that the switch wasn't the right size. He whipped it across Harry's back. The boy was hauled back up again by his arm, and then the man began to pull his hair hard. Harry started to scream loudly._

_

* * *

  
_

Minerva McGonagall jumped out of bed and hurried into the adjoining room from hers. Harry was again screaming from another nightmare. Once again he was dreaming about his life when he had lived with his aunt and uncle. It made her furious with the Dursley's and Albus.

She had told him that they should continue to work with him instead of obliviating him. He had assured her that they could give him a new start at life. No one had expected that the boy would remember what had happened in his dreams. Normally when a memory was wiped, a person wouldn't remember it at all, not even in their sleep.

Severus told them it was because they had made Harry forget five years of his life, it was a lot to erase. He also believed it had to do with the boy's age. Of course the child didn't understand his dreams at all. He usually asked them why he was dreaming of such things, and no one knew what to tell him.

She hated Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Without wanting to, she remembered the day when she had found Harry abused. It had been an August afternoon. Albus usually sent the teachers in for a yearly check up to make sure he was all right_­_. Normally no one saw him, so she was sent disguised as a cat. The image of how he looked would forever be etched in her memory.

She'd been resting on the garden wall very early in the morning when he came out. The boy she saw was covered in a lot of bruises. He was nearly bald, it looked as if they had ripped his hair out from time to time. Both his eyes had been blackened. His clothes were too big for him as well. It was odd that the neighbour's had never noticed the way he looked.

She knew automatically that they had been abusing him. She ran off as a cat, hid in an alleyway to transform and hurried back to the house. Harry was pulling weeds when she returned. She stunned him, and then took him to Hogwarts right away.

Madam Pomfrey had gone over his injuries, she reported that he was very malnourished, he had a few broken ribs, and one of his arms was broken. The matron had undressed Harry just to show them how thin he was. It was a wonder the child was living because he was much too thin. They could see every rib bone, even from his back.

What was worse, the boy wouldn't respond to them. As the months went by, they managed to fix all of his injuries, and he gained weight, but he didn't seem to understand love. He would cringe away from their hugs, he would scream at them that he should be dead… something that a six-year-old child should never say. He had very haunted eyes, as if he had seen to much in his small life time.

So Albus decided that they should give him a second chance at life for Christmas.

_"Albus, we should continue to work with him. We might be able to help him out. It's wrong to erase a person's memories."_

_"Harry has already tried to commit suicide my dear Minerva. Children his age shouldn't even have those thoughts. This child actually **tried **to kill himself. Have you heard of a **six-year-old **trying that before? I haven't. We've tried for four months to help him, but we can't. He believes he should be beaten for being alive. The Dursley's have warped him. If we don't do something now, he will become a bitter child. What do you think he might do if he resented all Muggle's?"_

_"He has a point," Severus said which was surprise._

_She had thought he would agree with her. She would have thought that Severus would believe they should make Harry face it._

So Christmas morning, they had wiped all his bad memories away. It had taken a while. The boy woke up disorientated, and from that day forward, they made up a fantasy life for him. His first month he was a very happy child, but then he had started to have nightmares.

It was a regular occurrence for Minerva to be awoken in the middle of the night. Luckily the school year would be over soon. She figured the students thought she was crabbier than usual, but she couldn't help it. She was usually very tired in classes because she was woken up by his screams.

"Harry, Harry," she murmured as she sat on the edge of the small child's bed.

"I'm sorry," he said as he cried. "I didn't mean to scream."

"Oh, it's all right little one. Dreams can be very terrifying. Can you tell me what happened?"

She pulled him onto her lap and began to stroke his hair. He told her about his dream. It was lucky that the Dursley's were in jail, she wanted to hurt them for what they put the boy through. She didn't understand how a person could hurt an innocent child the way they had. They had also encouraged their son to beat on the boy. Harry had told them about the abuse before they had wiped his memories.

"How come I dream about him?" Harry asked. "Who is the woman and kid? How come they hurt me in my sleep?"

"Someday maybe you'll understand," she said.

They had decided that once Harry was a lot older, they would tell him the truth if he asked. So she was careful to never tell him that she didn't know.

"He slapped me a lot Minerva," Harry said. "He ripped my hair out. I-I can feel it. How come I can feel it even though it was a dream?"

"Sometimes dreams seem very real," she answered. "I once had a dream that a hex hit me, and I felt it on my arm even though it really hadn't happened."

"But I dream about him almost every night. He always hurts me. How come I can't take the potion?"

There were times when they had let Harry take a dreamless sleep potion, but they couldn't give it to him every night, it was dangerous.

"You know why you can't dear. If I could help to prevent you from dreaming about that man, I would. I'll talk to Grandpa Albus again, maybe he'll know. Now, why don't I read you a story? You can dream about the story instead."

After two children's books, she managed to get him to sleep. It was three in the morning; she only had a few hours until she had to be up. Yawning, she headed back for bed. Why had she agreed to let the child sleep in her quarters?

* * *

Harry snuck into the library with a few of the older students. He wasn't allowed in there, they thought the books were inappropriate for someone his age. However, he wanted to find a book about dreams. He really didn't want to dream about the mean man anymore.

He was able to get into the rows of books easily, from there; he started to look through the titles. He couldn't read too well, so some of the titles he didn't understand.

"What are you looking for little man?"

Harry jumped and turned to face a big burly boy with red hair.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. My name is Charlie Weasley. I have a little brother around your age," the boy said. "Can I help you find anything?"

"I need a book about dreams," he answered. "I keep having bad dreams about an evil man. What is your brother's name?"

Little Harry didn't realize that Charlie took 'evil man' the wrong way. The older boy thought Harry meant Lord Voldemort, the man who was the reason for why the little one ended up with his aunt and uncle in the first place. The child didn't even know that his parents had been murdered by the most evil sorceress in the world.

"His name is Ron. He just turned seven in March. I have younger twin brothers as well. Fred and George, they turned nine in April."

Harry was envious of this boy. Although he was never lonely, he wished he could have a real family. He wanted to have a mother, father and siblings as well.

"I won't be seven until July," Harry answered as they went down some rows. "Know what? I never knew that before. I only found out that my birthday is July thirty-first. Don't know why I can't remember nothing. I should remember all my other birthdays, how come I never knew when my birthday was until now?"

Most people knew Harry's story, and Charlie was no exception. The older boy wasn't sure what to tell the small child. He didn't say anything. They were finally in a row of books about dreams, so he started to scan the titles instead of answering the little boy's question.

"Grandpa Albus says a lot of people don't 'member their early childhoods, but Charlie, sometimes I hear the bigger kids talk about stuff they remember when they were four or five. How come I can't then? I don't remember if I had a birthday party when I turned six! Do you know if I did? What year are you in?"

Charlie found a book about avoiding nightmares. It was a very old book; he pulled it from the shelf and handed it to Harry.

"I'm in my second year. And your birthday is in the summer, so I don't know if you've had a birthday party before. You'll have to ask the teacher's that one. Now, come on, let's go check that book out."

He took Harry by the hand and led him through the rows to the check out desk. Madam Pince stared down at Harry with disapproval.

"You shouldn't be in here young man," she said. "You know better than that."

Harry pushed the book onto her desk.

"I wanted this book," he answered.

She was another person who didn't seem to like him. He didn't understand why. He was always very nice to her. It was something to do with his sticky fingers touching books, but he always washed his hands… or at least he tried to.

"No," she said. "Now get out! You do not take books from this library until you are at least ten-years-old."

Harry's eyes brimmed with tears. He turned and fled from the library. He heard running footsteps behind him, he didn't get very far before the person grabbed his arm. For some reason, that made him feel scared. He winced as if waiting for a smack that never came.

"It's all right little guy," Charlie said. "I'll make sure I get your book for you. I'll see if one of my friends will take it out. It will be too suspicious if I take it out. Maybe I'll even see if Bill, my older brother will take it out for me instead."

"How many brother's do you got?" Harry asked and wiped his face as they headed down the corridors.

"Five brother's, and one sister. Bill, me, Percy, he's starting school here next year, the twins, Ron and Ginny."

"Wow," Harry said. "You're lucky."

* * *

True to his word, Charlie later came to him with the book about dreams. Harry made sure to hide it from Minerva, she wouldn't be too happy either if she knew he had a book from the library. So, while she marked the student's papers, Harry looked through the book. It was very hard to read, and the words were tiny, but he tried his best.

From what he did understand, he was supposed to clear his mind of all thoughts before he went to sleep, except for what he wanted to dream about. He had to only focus on that alone, and nothing else.

So that night he pictured himself playing Quidditch. After he had his story, he thought about nothing else.

* * *

_He was flying through the air, he caught the Snitch and the crowd cheered._

_"Harry Potter, the most famous Seeker in the world, he is also the youngest. At the age of six, this child is better than any player we've ever seen!"_

_He flew down to the ground after catching the snitch… and then everything went black._

_He was pulling weeds in the backyard of the man's house. The woman called for him to come inside. He hurried to the door, he was sure to make sure that he had no dirt on his shoes or clothes. Once he was inside, he was instructed to watch the pot of peas. So he climbed on his usual chair._

_The woman came back a few minutes later to check on his progress. _

_"They're burnt on the bottom of the pot!" She shouted._

_She removed the pot from the stove, grabbed Harry's arm, and then pressed his hand against the burner. He started to scream loudly. She smacked him across the face hard causing him to fall on the floor._

_"Don't you care that food costs money you ungrateful brat?"_

_She kicked him hard in the stomach. The man entered the room and asked what was going on. Harry cringed as the woman explained what had happened. The man turned to Harry and picked him up from the floor, he carried him over to the kitchen door and placed the child's hand on the frame. He grabbed the door and slammed it hard on the fingers. The boy screamed again._

_"The windows are open! How dare you make such racket! You're going to have the neighbour's investing again," the man shouted._

_He smacked Harry hard on the back of his head. His face hit the wall.  
_

_"I guess you don't want to eat today either, now get out of my sight!"_

_Harry headed for his room, the cupboard under the stairs, but the man followed him._

_"I don't think so. You know the rules for wasting good food. You can sleep in the basement for the week! You're nothing but worthless scum. You should be dead!"_

Harry sat up panting, he was careful not to scream this time. He didn't understand these dreams. He would have to find another way to prevent them from happening. He buried his face in his pillow and began to weep silently. Why did he have such bad dreams?

* * *

A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed and added me to an alert. You saw a summary through Minerva's point of view, but in later chapters it will go into more details. The first chapters are going to be Harry growing up, and having the nightmares. You won't see exactly what had happened from the days between when they saved him to to Christmas day until much later.

Also, I might write about his days at the Dursley's but I'm still debating about it. It was hard to write the scenes that are featured in this chaptered. I didn't think it would be hard to write about a fictional character being abused, but it really is.

About Minerva stunning Harry.... just in case anyone was wondering about that. It was the only spell that I could think of that would knock him out. Her first thoughts were to get him out of that house and now, not later. A child, even an abused one would be startled if a strange woman grabbed him, and she apparated him to Hogsmeade, which is something else that would have startled and likely terrrfied him since apparation is supposed to be unpleasant. Given what he went through, it was better if he was knocked out for the ride.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.


	3. Chapter 3

"_We did not take the boy in with the intentions of beating him! We took him in to raise him and to well… not love him, a freak such as that child does not deserve love, but to give him normal family life. He is the one who wrecked it for himself. When he was three-years-old, he sat on our front lawn doing that-that unnaturalness! That was the first time we witnessed it, after that, he kept it up. The final straw was when he used the powers to push Dudley! The child wasn't even near my son, but he managed to push him down. That was the end of it. After that… well, he made his own bed."_

The Dursley's had believed that they could beat the powers out of the boy. They began by giving him chores a child his age would have difficulties with. By the age of four, as impossible as it might sound to some people, Harry knew how to cook breakfast. The many bruises and scars proved that they had beaten him if he didn't do it right.

Not only could he make breakfast, but he could clean the house, weed the flower beds, and even do the laundry. By the time he was five-years-old, he could make lunch and supper as well. When he was six, he did most of the chores in the house, while Petunia Dursley inspected his work.

His overweight cousin Dudley, who was the same age, but a lot bigger, never had to lift a finger. After school, on weekends, and holidays, the overweight child would watch television and eat. He would purposely make a mess for Harry to clean up. Sometimes he would do something that would cause Harry to be punished.

Both boys had started school when they were four, but the Dursley's pulled Harry out of school halfway through year one. So he only had a year and a half of schooling. This was the reason why the boy could read a little bit, even though he didn't know this. It was always a mystery to him why he could, but he had never had an instructor come in to teach him.

Grandpa Albus told him that during the summer months and into the next school year, he was going to bring someone in to finally educate him.

"Grandpa Albus, how come I know how to read?" Harry asked. "You said I've never been taught before, but I sort of know how to read, write and other stuff. How come?"

"We taught you what we could in our spare time," Grandpa Albus answered. "Now Harry, I have another surprise for you. A man who once knew you very well will be coming in to see you soon. He was very good friends with your parents. He has been looking forward to seeing you."

Harry was relieved to hear this. The summer holidays had started two weeks ago, and he couldn't be more bored. Most of the teachers had left, and all the students were gone. His days were either spent with Grandpa Albus in the Headmaster's office, or he was with Filch or Hagrid. His sleeping quarters had even been moved since Minerva had left for a month.

"When did I see him last?"

"The last time he saw you, you were just a baby," Grandpa Albus answered. "You won't remember him.

_That doesn't surprise me _Harry thought to himself. He didn't remember much as it was. It felt as if this were his very first summer at Hogwarts, even though Grandpa Albus said it wasn't. He couldn't remember what he done the previous summers to keep himself busy, he had a lot of questions about where everyone went, and why he couldn't go home as well.

"This is your home," Grandpa Albus had answered.

"But I want to go home to a _family_, it's boring here without anyone to talk to or play with," Harry had protested. "How come I don't get a family? Am I bad?"

"You know you're parents died when you were a baby."

"But how come I don't got another family? How come I have to live at the castle? How come I don't remember being here before? I don't remember any of my birthdays, or other summers. How come?" He had fired his questions, and there was the one that had bothered him the most. "You said the only house I've ever been is Hagrid's. Why do I dream about being in another house?"

He was able to explain his aunt and uncle's house in detail, even though he didn't know whose place it was. There was a lot that didn't make sense to him. In his dream, he knew the people's names were Vernon, Petunia and Dudley but according to the teachers, he had never met people with those names. When he asked why he had dreams about them, they just told him that maybe someday he would understand.

"Grandpa Albus, I'm bored!" Harry said now.

Although the Headmaster's office was interesting because of all of Grandpa Albus' strange knick-knacks, a child could grow very bored there. He had spent a good part of the last two weeks cooped up there. Fawkes the Phoenix wasn't even around for him to pet

"Why don't I see what Hagrid is doing then?" Grandpa Albus asked.

Harry jumped up and down excitedly. Hagrid used to scare him because he was twice the size of a normal man, but he was very fun to be around. He was always full of information about strange creatures. Once they had even met a centaur together.

Grandpa Albus got up from behind his desk, and with a wave of his wand, he sent something silver out the window.

"Can I trust that you'll go straight to the Entrance Hall, and that you'll wait for Hagrid there?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. It had only been since the Easter holidays that he'd been given freedom around the castle. Before that, he had to be escorted every where. However, he knew his way around, even though he didn't like Filch, he could thank him for that. When he didn't have to sit in a corner, he walked around helping the caretaker clean.

They had to wait for Hagrid's message, but once they had it, he took off.

* * *

Albus watched the boy run off sadly. Harry could drive anyone crazy with his questions. Again he wondered if they had done the right thing by erasing the child's memories. What confused him the most was why he still dreamed about his home life with the Dursley's. That wasn't something that normally happened.

_Harry Potter isn't a normal child _a voice in his reminded him. This was true, the child had survived the killing curse, no normal wizard did that, Lily had certainly loved the boy a lot. It shouldn't surprise anyone that that spell to erase his memories hadn't worked properly either, and they were all worried about trying it again. They were worried it could be dangerous, so they let it be.

_Did we do the right thing by making him forget? _Albus wondered. But then he remembered the night when Harry had tried to commit suicide. It had been a few days before Christmas.

_They were out in the corridors with Harry. He was backing away from them, telling them all just to leave him alone. Albus, Severus, Minerva, Flitwick, Pomfrey and Sprout were all trying to get the boy to go back to the Hospital Wing. No one wanted to stop him with magic; they wanted him to come to them on his own. Several students who had stayed for the holidays watched._

"_Don't want you to talk to me no more!" Harry shouted. "You don't know nothing about me! I'm bad, I'm very bad, I'm abnormal, I'm strange and I need to die! DIE YOU STUPID UGLY FREAK! DIE!"_

_And with those words, he turned and ran from them. They all jogged after him, Albus wanted to at that point stop him, he took out his wand, but Madam Pomfrey scolded him. She told him that they couldn't keep putting him in the body-bind when they wanted him to come to them. However, later she would regret this._

_Harry knew his way to the Astronomy tower very well. He enjoyed looking up at the stars at night, for some reason it was the only thing that could calm him down. So no one was too upset when he ran straight for the tower. It was one of his favourite places to be, either that or the Great Hall where the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky. They all believed that once he got a glimpse of the stars, he would be alright._

_Several of the students followed, even though they were told not to. At the top of the tower, Harry climbed up on to the parapet and jumped just as Severus caught a hold of his arm. The boy started to scream loudly. He kicked and punched Severus, he demanded for the man to let him go._

"_We should have stopped him with magic," Professor Sprout muttered, but no paid any attention._

"_LET ME GO! I want to die! I don't deserve to be loved! How come you try and love me? I want to die! I am an unnatural freak! I have to be beaten! STOP!"_

_Severus kept a hold of Harry, even though the boy was trying to get out of his arms. Minerva had quickly cast an invisible barrier around the tower, in case the boy escaped. The students who had followed were crying. No one liked to see a six-year-old behave the way Harry was. It wasn't normal for a child his age to want death._

_Luckily Madam Pomfrey had brought a calming drought. She gave some to Harry who tried to spit it back out, but she also gave some to the students as well who were all hysterical._

It was something that he would always remember. Yes, he decided, they had made the right decision. Harry was never going to accept their love, he couldn't. He also couldn't accept the magic because it was the very reason for why he was beaten. He didn't want to be able to use a wand someday, and he most certainly did not want to be a wizard.

"_I need to go back home. They hurt me, but they were helping me. I don't wanna live here. I don't wanna do magic! I wanna be normal. They have to hurt me to make me normal!"_

* * *

A man named Mr. Harper came in every day to give Harry his lessons. They boy was very happy about this, it kept him busy. During free time, Mr. Harper decided to show the boy how to fly (he would never tell this to Madam Hooch who had wanted to be the one to teach him) as well.

Ever since he had seen his first Quidditch game (or what he believed to be his first, since he couldn't remember any before then) he had wanted to learn how to fly. He figured now he could train to play on an international team. He would be the youngest seeker in the world. He figured he would probably be seven by the time they finally took him in.

"_Harry Potter, seven-years-old, is the youngest Seeker to ever play! He is the best flyer in the entire world; no one can ever match his skill."_

He was excited for that day to come. He never told anyone about his daydreams for fear that they would laugh. When he didn't have his lessons or his homework, he asked to go to the Quidditch Pitch to fly. Usually Hagrid had to watch him during these times since Madam Hooch wasn't back yet, and Grandpa Albus was too busy.

"Yer gonna give me a hear' attack Harry," Hagrid told him one day. "Aren't yeh too young to be divin' like that?"

"Mr. Harper don't think so!" Harry answered. "Anyway, I gotta fly like this. It's how the people in Quidditch fly."

"Yer not old enough to play Quidditch," Hagrid told him.

He and Grandpa Albus wouldn't let him take out a Snitch, or any of the other equipment to play. This frustrated him since he needed his practice so he could play on a team someday. They only cared about his safety, but the youngest player in the world wouldn't need protection!

* * *

His seventh birthday came up quickly. All the teachers, except Severus were coming back. He didn't understand why the Potion's Master didn't want to come to his birthday party. The man did send him a trick wand with a birthday card, but that was it.

On the day of his birthday, he woke up excited to be a year older. He just hoped that he would be able to remember this birthday. It still bothered him that he couldn't remember his previous ones. Had Severus come to his sixth birthday? What about his fourth or fifth?

He was sleeping in a small room above the Headmaster's office, just off of Grandpa Albus' study. He leapt out of bed, and hurried to change into a pair of robes. He found the old wizard going through some papers on his desk when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Happy birthday Harry," he said. "Would you like to wait for me, or do you want to go straight to the Great Hall?"

"Straight to the Great Hall," Harry answered.

The Headmaster gave him a small nod. Harry hurried out of the office, to the revolving staircase. Once he was in the corridors, he broke into a run and didn't stop until he was in the Great Hall. Everyone was already there. They had removed the four house tables, and the teachers table. Instead, there was a round table situated in the middle of the room. A banner hung above the table:

HAPPY SEVENTH BIRTHDAY HARRY

There was a smaller table where a pile of gifts sat. He was sure that he had never seen so many in his life. Minerva had a camera; she instantly started to take his picture. As he walked over to them, he felt excitement go through him when he saw that Severus had come after all.

"You came!" Harry yelled he ran over to hug the man.

"Yes, well," was all Severus said.

He gave the boy a pat on the head.

"How come you came? You said you weren't coming," Harry asked.

"I was persuaded," Severus answered.

He turned away to start talking to Aurora Sinistra. Harry's shoulders drooped for a moment; he didn't understand why Severus didn't like him very much. He turned away to find Hagrid, who was talking to a man Harry had never met. He was wearing very shabby robes, and although he looked young, he appeared to have greying hair.

"Hello Harry," the man said. "My name is Remus Lupin. I used to be best friends with your parents. The last time I saw you, you were just a baby. How are you doing?"

"Good," Harry answered. "But how come you've never visited me before now?"

"Well, I wanted to Harry, but I've been very busy, and I wasn't sure where you were. I was glad to find out that you were here," Remus answered.

From the tone of his voice, it sounded as if he knew something else; it was the same tone all of the teachers used. Sometimes he had to wonder if he hadn't really been brought up at Hogwarts at all, but if hadn't, then where had he been before?

"Everyone says I look like my dad, but with my mummy's eyes," Harry said.

Remus nodded, and began with a story about Harry's parents. Apparently Severus had known his parents as well, but he didn't talk about them, so Harry was relieved to find someone who would. They continued to talk about them over breakfast.

"Have you told Harry _all _of your secrets, Lupin?" Severus asked in a snide tone.

"I'm sure over time, Harry and I will learn everything we need to know about each other," Remus answered, ignoring the man's tone.

"You'll come back?" Harry asked.

"Of course, now that I know where you are, I think I will see you as much as I can," Remus told him. "I'll take you out for lunch later."

Minerva, and a couple of other teachers snapped his picture as the day progressed. They made sure to take pictures at different angles while he opened his presents, while he blew out his candle, and while he mingled. One thing Harry didn't understand was why they hadn't taken any pictures of his last birthdays.

"Minerva, where are my other pictures?" Harry asked. "How come there are no pictures from last year, or the year before?"

"We didn't have camera's then Harry," she answered. "But we were able to get some this year. I'm sorry we don't have pictures of you when you were younger."

He was sorry too. It might have been silly, but he felt as if he hadn't existed before Christmas. He had to wonder if everyone was lying to him about something. Why else couldn't he remember anything? _Who am I really? _Harry wondered.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed, and to those who added me to alert.

I'm probably going to age Harry soon. I want to keep this as close to Canon as possible (even though it's AU) with when he goes to school. I want him to remain friends with Ron and Hermione, save the stone, and etc. So I want to keep that story line. However, I'll mention that stuff, but not go into too much detail about it since we already know all about how that stuff. I'm just going to do some background stuff about his insecurities. I'll probably have all his secrets revealed at the end of third year, how he copes with it and that's where the story will end. I might do a sequel.

Oh and was the last chapter really bad? I only had one review for it.


	4. Chapter 4

In this chapter, you'll learn exactly why Harry was very traumatized, and what led him to suicide. He understood it a lot better than most kids his age, because of what you'll read about in this chapter.

* * *

Harry knew his way down to Severus Snape's office. When everyone was busy, he managed to get away from them. He figured the Potion's Master would have a Dreamless Sleep Potion down in his office. He knew Madam Pomfrey likely had some, but it would be hard to steal anything from her. Snape wasn't back at Hogwarts yet, so he was the best person to steal from.

He hoped, as he made his way through the corridors that he wouldn't run into Peeves or any of the other school ghosts. The poltergeist would make a racket, and the ghosts would likely alert one of the teachers. As it was, the teachers were all busy preparing for the new school year, and they would be out of the way for a while.

He was relieved when he made it to the steps that would take him down to the dungeons. As soon as he got to the bottom, he broke out into a run, and didn't stop until he was outside of Snape's door. He tried to get inside, but as he expected, the door was locked. This did not bother him.

Harry knew how to control his magic somewhat. It was something he had always known how to do. There were times when he couldn't control it, such as when he was angry or scared, but other times he could do something just by concentration. This is what he did now. He focused all of his energy on getting into Snape's office.

There was a click, and slowly, the door opened. The office was dark, so he concentrated on lighting the torches. It took more of his energy to do this, and he felt tired afterward, but it worked. Soon the room was full of light.

Harry started to search through the potions on the shelves. It didn't take long before he found what he was looking for. It was in a tall bottle. Very quickly, he hid it in his robes and made his way out of the office. He couldn't extinguish the torches, but he knew they would go out themselves. He made sure to lock the door though.

* * *

  
The school year slowly drew nearer. The teachers were all returning, including Severus. If the man noticed that he was missing a potion, he didn't say anything. Harry really didn't see him, as he spent most of the time down in the dungeon's preparing for the new first years.

As for Harry, he hadn't had a nightmare about the man named Vernon since he'd stolen the potion. He always took it before Minerva (he had moved back into her quarters) came in to read him a story. It usually didn't take him long to fall asleep during a story as it was, so she didn't question it when he fell asleep right away.

The day of the feast, Minerva presented him with a new pair of his own Hogwarts Robes. He usually wore everyday robes, but at important feasts, he would wear the school robes. His old pair was a couple of inches too short, so he couldn't wear them anymore.

"Well, don't you look handsome," she said as she combed his hair.

"I do _not_!" Harry said.

"You act as if I just insulted you. All right, keep yourself clean please. Stay inside," she said.

"But I was going to go out to see Hagrid," Harry whined.

"You've been with everyday this summer," Minerva answered, "and he is busy as well. As you know, he has to lead the first years to the school. It's getting late anyway. I want you to stay where I can see you."

She looked at his face and then put a hand to his forehead.

"You've looked a bit sick lately anyway. Are you feeling all right? You're awfully pale."

He gave her a nod, though lately he had been feeling dizzy. He didn't want to tell this today because she would make him miss the feast. He couldn't remember any other Welcoming Feast, so he wanted to be there for this one.

He did his best to play quietly until it was time to go into the Great Hall, but this was very hard for an active seven-year-old. He tried to do his reading assignments, but he was much too excited for the feast, it was a relief when Minerva told him that they could go down.

Above each of the four house tables, there were the banners that represented each house. Although Harry really wanted to be in Gryffindor, he couldn't help but be fascinated with the Slytherin's banner because it had a snake on it. He thought it looked cool… not that the Gryffindor lion wasn't either.

There was also a banner above the teachers table, which welcomed the students back. This was where Minerva led Harry. He took his place in the chair that was between hers and Severus' quickly. Most of the teachers were already in their seats talking.

"Are you excited for another year?" Harry asked Severus.

"Ecstatic," Severus answered in a dry voice.

He picked up a copy of the Evening Prophet from the table, and disappeared behind it. Harry let out a disappointed sigh. The rest of the teachers didn't pay any attention to him either. He let out another loud sigh to show his boredom.

"Stop it, Potter," Severus said from behind the paper.

"I'm _bored_," he complained. "Where _is _everyone?"

"The train should be arriving at any moment, now please, be quiet," Severus answered.

"But Severus-" Harry began, but he found that he couldn't talk anymore.

Severus had silenced him. He started to cry, but of course no one heard him. They were all too busy chatting with each other to notice. He raised his fist and slammed it down hard on the table.

"HARRY POTTER!" Minerva said angrily. "If you don't behave, you can miss the feast. You'll eat in your room."

He looked down at the table; tears were still streaming down his cheeks. He sniffled. Why were they all so angry with him? He just wanted to talk to the teachers, but they were ignoring him. He also felt very dizzy, and he was slowly developing a headache.

_Why are they all being mean? I just wanted to talk to Severus! _Harry thought angrily.

Minerva disappeared after awhile and soon the students began to file into the Great Hall. Some called out to him and waved. The silencing charm was still on him, so he couldn't do more than wave back. He wiped his tears away, and watched as the students all started to sit down. Charlie Weasley gave him the thumbs up from the Gryffindor table.

Soon Minerva was back with a long line of first years. Harry thought they all looked terrified. He noticed there was a boy with red hair amongst them, and he wondered if it was Percy Weasley, Charlie's younger brother. They lined up in front of the teachers table, but behind a stool with a hat on it. He wanted to ask Severus how the hat sorted people, but he still couldn't speak.

The hat suddenly opened at a rip in the brim, and started to sing a song about the four houses at Hogwarts. Once it was done, Professor McGonagall began to call the names of the students. He realized that all they had to do was wear the hat, and it would call out the houses they belonged in. Sometimes it took longer with some than it did with others.

When "Weasley, Percy" was called up, Harry sat up to watch where he would go...

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry could see the two older Weasley's cheering for him among the rest of the Gryffindor's. Minerva was clapping as well, since she would be Percy's Head of House.

The sorting finally ended, and Grandpa Albus stood up to give a few announcements before food appeared on the table. Harry gasped along with the first years. Usually the food was already on the table when he entered the room, so this was different for him as well. He couldn't remember the previous feasts when this had happened, so it seemed new to him.

He wasn't sure if Severus had taken the silencing spell off of him, but he was too angry to speak. Instead, he just started to eat his food. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he felt dizzy, so he tried to eat. He reached out to grab a piece of chicken, but then everything went black.

* * *

  
"What did you find out?" Minerva asked anxiously.

Madam Pomfrey stared grimly at the group of teachers who were waiting outside of the Hospital Wing. They had been waiting nearly an hour.

"He has been taking dreamless sleeping potion, probably for more than a week at least," she answered. "Does anyone know about this?"

She was staring pointedly at Minerva, as if it had been she who had given Harry the potion.

"He hasn't had any for months," she answered. "I told him it was too dangerous for him to have it every night."

"Well he must have gotten some from somewhere," Madam Pomfrey said. "He has too much in his system at the moment. It's hard to tell when he'll wake up, and if he does, there could be a good amount of brain damage."

Professor Sprout let out a small sob, but no one paid her any attention, most of the staff were upset by this. Even Severus looked down, even though he pretended to dislike Harry. He leaned against the wall; his face wore a look of shock.

"If he doesn't get better, I may send him to St. Mungos, for now, we must find out how he got a hold of the potion, and why he was taking it."

Minerva shifted uneasily. "He has nightmares most nights about what his aunt and uncle did to him."

She had told Albus that they needed to find a way to prevent the nightmares, but the Headmaster didn't do anything about it. The dreams must have disturbed him enough that he'd decided to take the potion.

"I'll search his room," Minerva said. "Maybe I'll see if he has any stashed in there."

* * *

The search of Harry's room proved to he helpful. She found a large bottle of it in his room, underneath the bed. As she examined the scratchy hand-writing on the label, she learned who he'd gotten it from too… Severus.

Severus wouldn't take the blame for it; he told them all that his door had been locked. He searched his office himself and found out he was missing a bottle of the potion.

"The staff who stayed over here during the summer should have watched him," Severus told them.

Most of the teachers were pointing their fingers at Minerva for not noticing. She figured that the boy must have taken the potion when she didn't notice, and then hid it. It wasn't unusual for him to fall asleep right away, so she hadn't thought it was strange for him to miss the rest of the story.

Harry was just a very sneaky child, and they would have to keep a better eye on him when he came around. They would also have to make sure that he didn't have anymore nightmares, so he wouldn't have to take drastic measures to stop them.

* * *

  
_Harry woke up, it was sixth birthday. He yawned and opened the cupboard door. He was hoping that his aunt and uncle would lay off on the chores that day. He really wanted to enjoy his day. He made his way into the kitchen, where food was already on the table._

"_Boy, it's finally time you learn what happened to your parents," Uncle Vernon said. "Sit down and eat, and then we'll help you understand."_

_He had been asking for as long as he could remember where his parents were. However, his aunt and uncle refused to tell him anything about it. The most he ever got out of his aunt was that they were gone forever. Now finally, maybe he would know where they were. __**Maybe I am going to go back home with them! **__He thought excitedly. _

_It had been a while since he'd been allowed to eat breakfast, so he took a while longer to eat. He wanted to savour the taste, because he wasn't sure when the next time he would be able to eat again. He bit into his toast and closed his eyes; he had forgotten how it tasted with butter on it. _

"_Petunia, are you going to take Dudley to the park while I tell the boy?" Uncle Vernon asked._

"_What exactly are you going to tell him?" Aunt Petunia asked. "You aren't going to tell him about… you know… we said we wouldn't tell him about it."_

"_No, although he does know about it, doesn't he? He's always doing the freakiness…"_

_They were talking about his strange powers. He tried not to do them, he used to be able to control them, but he no longer wanted to do it. However, if he was scared or sad, he always did them. The only time he couldn't use them was when he was getting a beating. Any other time, he would manage to use them. He knew it was because of them that his aunt and uncle hated him. He wished he could just stop them._

_Harry hated himself, a lot. Uncle Vernon was always telling him that he should be dead… he didn't know what it was, but he wished it would happen. Maybe once he 'died' they would love him. Perhaps he would even get his own room, with toys in it. If he died, maybe the powers would go away. _

"_Well then, how are you going to tell him?" Aunt Petunia persisted._

"_I have my own way. It's very important that you keep Dudley away from the house for at least a few hours," Uncle Vernon answered. "Once I'm finished, the boy will understand what death is, and he'll understand exactly what happened to his parents."_

_Harry wished his aunt would go away soon. He really wanted to know the secret of dead! When they finally left (which took a while, since Aunt Petunia had to get Dudley ready) Harry looked up at his uncle expectedly._

"_Alright, let's go into the living-room, and don't dawdle," Uncle Vernon snapped._

_The breakfast dishes were still on the table. This was his job, but Uncle Vernon didn't want him to do anything with them yet. Harry hurried off of his chair, and followed his uncle into the living-room. _

"_Sit on the floor, in front of the telly, I am going to put in a video that will explain everything. First, what you should know is, your parents were murdered," Uncle Vernon said._

_Harry sat down on the floor, in front of the television, it was very rare that he was allowed to watch it, he couldn't help but feel excited. _

"_You'll understand what murder is soon," Uncle Vernon told him. "What you'll see in this video is murder. When someone is murdered, they die. They never come back from death, which is where your parents are."_

"_Can I go there?" Harry asked._

"_As much as I wish I could help get you there, your aunt forbids it," Uncle Vernon answered. "You should have gone with your parents."_

"_Do it today, Uncle Vernon, please. It's my birthday," Harry said. _

"_No! If I murdered you, I would go to jail you stupid child. See, this is the reason why you aren't in school anymore! You don't even know what death is!"_

_At first, Harry was excited to watch the video, but after a while, he wanted to close his eyes. Murder was bad… very bad. The things that happened to people who were murdered were worse than the beatings he got. He screamed as he watched a person's head get chopped off._

"_SHUT UP!" Uncle Vernon shouted. "You wanted to know the truth, well here is the truth!"_

_He wanted to turn his head away, but each time he tried, his uncle would hit him, or threaten to whip him. By the time the video was over, he was shaking all over. He would never forget the way those people died ever again… oh he understood death now, and it wasn't good. The video even showed people killing themselves, some had jumped off buildings. _

"_Aren't you going to thank me?" Uncle Vernon asked. "I spent all my time recording what I could for this. I wanted you to see all the different ways people died. You should remember how the people killed themselves as well. And don't tell your aunt."_

_Remember? Of course he would remember. He would never forget any of those scenes. Uncle Vernon made him go into the kitchen afterward to clean up. Even while he cleaned, he couldn't stop shaking. All he could remember was the way the people had died… and all that blood, the blood everywhere._

_Aunt Petunia returned shortly before lunch._

"_What exactly did you tell him?" She asked Uncle Vernon as she scrutinized Harry's face. "He's all pale and shaky."_

"_Well he's young," Uncle Vernon said. "I suppose learning that that's what happened to your parents can be hard."_

_Right, his parents had died that way. Had his mother been decapitated or stabbed or… he shuddered and he thought about it. According to his uncle, he had nearly gone the same way as well. It was the reason why he had the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Had someone cut him?_

"_You're going to slow!" Aunt Petunia snapped at him._

_He barely noticed the smack across his face. What his aunt and uncle did to him was nice compared to what had happened to those people in the movie. His parents had died because they had done the strange things he did. From now on, he wouldn't do them. He didn't want what happened to those people happen to him._

_According to his uncle, suicide didn't hurt. So maybe if he jumped off of a building someday, he could join his parents again… but how could he get onto a building? He decided for now just to pretend that the powers didn't exist._

* * *

  
Minerva looked in on Harry, he was very restless. Madam Pomfrey told them that he had passed through the critical stage, now they just had to wait for him to wake up. At the moment, she believed that he was dreaming about something.

Suddenly, he started to scream.

* * *

  
A/N: Yes, very morbid, I know. But that's the reason why he couldn't accept that he was a wizard, and why he didn't want to be loved by wizards.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry opened his eyes and looked around. He wondered why he was in the hospital wing. The last thing he could remember was that he had been feeling dizzy at the feast. As he pulled himself out of his stupor, his eyes fell on Grandpa Albus, who was sitting in a chair beside his bed.

"Finally awake Harry," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," Harry answered. "I'm a little tired… how come I am here?"

"You passed out during the Welcoming Feast about a week ago, my dear boy," Grandpa Albus answered softly, but then he wore a stern expression. "Harry, do you know how dangerous it was for you to have taken that Dreamless Sleeping Potion every night?"

They knew? Had he passed out because of that? That would mean that Severus would find out, or already knew that he was missing a bottle of it. Harry really wanted the man to like him; this would just make the Potion's Master hate him instead.

"Luckily you didn't have too much in your system, so after a couple of days you were fine. If you had taken anymore Harry, you could have had severe brain damage. There is a reason why we didn't want you to take so much," Grandpa Albus said in a grave voice.

"I just wanted to stop the nightmares," Harry answered. "I don't like dreaming about those people. I always dream that they are hurting me."

Now that he mentioned it, he was sure that he'd dreamt about them again. However, he couldn't remember what the dreams were about. As he thought about it, he was sure one had to do with Vernon telling him about how his parents had died… but when he tried to grasp the memory, he couldn't. The only thing he could remember was that the man mentioned his parents had been murdered. He vaguely understood what murder was.

"Grandpa Albus were my parents murdered?" He asked.

"Why do you ask that?" Albus asked sharply.

"That man… Vernon I think is his name… well, he told me that they were murdered, but I can't remember the rest of it."

Grandpa Albus seemed to hesitate, but then he gave a small nod. "I didn't want to tell you until you were a little older, Harry. I guess you must have heard someone mention it if you dreamt that. Your parents were killed when you were a baby by one of the most evil wizards of all time, Lord Voldemort."

Harry gasped, he knew who exactly who the man was. The older students often talked about him, and so did the teachers when they didn't think Harry was listening. He knew that the man had killed innocent witches and wizards just because they weren't pureblood, or because they had opposed him.

"Your parents defied him three times, so one evening he went after them. From what I believe, and this is just a theory, but probably true, Lord Voldemort killed your father first. He tried to kill you next, but I believe your mum stood in the way and sacrificed herself so he couldn't. That is the reason why you have that scar, the curse he used on you rebounded onto himself and he disappeared."

Harry nodded, it was hard news to take in knowing that he'd almost been killed, but it was a comfort to know his mother had saved him. Over the years, he would think about it often, at the moment, he was shocked. It was a lot of information for a seven-year-old boy.

"You said he tried to kill me," Harry said. "Why?"

"That's something you'll understand when you are a lot older. You are too young for that information. I did not want to reveal to you how your parents really died until you were at least nine or ten. However, children your age know your story so perhaps it is best to tell you now."

He didn't like to hear that he was _too young _but he could tell by the Headmasters expression that pleading wouldn't do anything.

"Now about the nightmares," Grandpa Albus continued, "I have arranged with Severus to help you out. We do not want you to steal anymore potions. Which reminds me, you owe Severus an apology."

Harry nodded. He was pleased that the Potion's Master was going to help him. He just hoped the man didn't hate him.

* * *

  
Harry was allowed to leave the Hospital Wing a few days after he woke up. During the time he had been passed out, students and teachers had sent him treats, toys, and get well cards. He learned that Charlie had tried to visit him everyday, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't allow anyone but the teaching staff to visit him.

Minerva let him have all of the toys, but she took the candy away so he wouldn't be able to eat all of it at once. She told him that she would reward him with it for good behaviour, but not until his punishment was over. She had decided to ground him for stealing, and for sneaking the potion.

"You had everyone scared young man. Don't you dare do anything like that again!"

He waited at least a week after his release from the Hospital Wing to apologize to Severus. It wasn't that he didn't want to; it was because he was nervous. The man didn't talk to Harry at all; it was as if he were waiting for the boy to come to him.

One Saturday afternoon, he made his way down to Severus' office. He hesitated for a long time before he finally knocked. The door opened, but there was no one behind it. Harry entered the room and found the Potion's Master at his desk. He was staring down at a pile of parchment, every once and a while, he would write on a piece, and then move it aside to work on the next one.

"Close the door behind you, Potter," he said without looking up.

Harry nodded and shut the door; he walked over to a chair in front of Severus' desk and sat down in it.

"I just wanted to say I am very sorry for stealing your potion sir," Harry said.

Severus looked up from the pile of parchment now.

"You will become a petty criminal if you keep this up, Potter. I recall last year that I lectured you about stealing more than once. I guess I just wasted my time," Severus said. "You must get out of this habit, and today. The Snitch, while I admit was harmless; it still belongs to the school. You know all you had to do was ask. However, you've already been disciplined for that and for the other times you stole, so I will not bring it up again."

Harry nodded; he had listened to the lecture the year before a lot. He did know that stealing was wrong, and he also knew that if he wanted something, all he had to do was ask. However, the potion was different, he had asked for it over several occasions but the teachers hadn't given any to him. He said this to Severus now.

"Yes that is true," Severus said. "We had a very good reason for denying your request. You could have _died_, Harry, or worse, you could have had brain damage."

_Brain damage was worse than dying? _He wondered. True, he didn't really understand what brain damage was, but he didn't think anything could be worse than dying.

"Instead, you decided to ignore us, and come into _my _office and steal from me. You could have lost me my job. The Ministry blamed me because I had it where students or _you_ specifically had access to it. Albus had to stand up on my behalf. My door was locked Potter" Harry noticed the change from Harry to Potter "because I was away for the summer. In fact, I always lock my door when I'm not in my office. Students have stolen ingredients from me in the past, so I do it as a precaution.

"Usually 'alohomora' does not work on that lock. I am astounded that you even managed to get in."

Harry didn't know if he should explain or not, but he decided he should since Severus had paused.

"I just thought about it unlocking and it did," he answered.

"Underage magic at times can be very powerful. However, I have put a stronger spell on the door. Not only will you be prevented from entering, I will also be alerted if someone has broken in."

"I wasn't going to do it again," Harry muttered looking away from the cold black eyes, "and I'm sorry I almost lost you your job. I'll do what you want so you don't hate me no more."

He didn't want Severus to see the tears in his eyes now.

"Come here Harry," the man said.

Harry looked up sharply, and then did as the Severus asked. He climbed off of his chair and made his way around the desk. To his surprise, he was lifted up onto the man's lap. This was the first time he could remember ever being held by the Potion's Master. He'd always pictured a scene like this, but he was sure it would never happen. The man didn't cuddle Harry the way the other teachers did. In fact, he rarely touched him, unless it was to reprimand him.

"I do not hate you," he told Harry. "I am very angry with you, and I am sorry I can't trust you, but I don't hate you."

"You hated my daddy," Harry said. "I heard you tell Minerva that I looked just like him. You always yell at me, and you never want me around. At the Welcoming Feast, I wanted to talk to you, but you were mean to me."

"I admit P-Harry that when you first came here, I was annoyed, but you are not your father. You have _some_ of his traits, sneaking around, and stealing, but you are very different from him. You remind me of your mother, in fact. At the feast, I was in a bad mood, and I did not want to listen to a seven-year-old whine. I only yell at you if you're doing something wrong," he said. "Also, as a teacher I am very busy. I cannot play with you because I have mountains of homework to mark. I also have to plan out my classes."

This was definitely a shock, but when he thought about it, he knew that Severus could be very short with his Slytherin's as well. He favoured them over the rest of the houses, but there were times when the man was found yelling at one of them.

"But Albus has arranged with me to work with you so you will not have nightmares anymore. You will be able to spend more time with me. Now, I want you to promise me that you will not steal from me or anyone else ever again. You are old enough to understand the consequences of your actions. If you _ever _steal again and I find out, I have permission from the Headmaster to give your bottom a few swats."

Harry froze at that, and he thought about the dreams. Would Severus hurt him in the way that the man and woman in his dreams hurt him? He shuddered at that thought, and although he had never told Severus his dreams, the man seemed to understand.

"You'll never be beaten cruelly or for no reason. You'll get slapped on the bottom with just my hand and nothing else, I promise you that Harry. You will never be hit anywhere else. However, we won't have to worry about that, since you will never steal again."

"How come I can't just have a time out?" Harry asked. "If Minerva punishes me, I get a time out."

"Because, Potter, you've been warned about stealing. Most of the time, I admit you listen when we tell you not to do something. However, you have stolen more than once from the school. The Snitch was not your first instance, as I recall. Each time you stole something; we've grounded you, put you in time out or taken away privileges. This does not seem to work, so I hope that with the threat of a small spanking you will _never _steal again," Severus answered in a stern voice. "I will remind you again, you will not be hit for no reason. You will never be hit anywhere but on your bottom, and you never be hit by anything except a hand. I hope this will never happen, but if it _does_, I will remind you again that I am _not_ being cruel."

Harry nodded. He knew the teachers would never punish him in the way the people had in his dream. He couldn't remember ever being spanked, but he knew that it hurt. The dreams he had told him that much, so with that threat over his head, he promised that he would never steal again.

"Of course," Severus added. "You shouldn't steal because you are worried about a spanking. You shouldn't do it because you _know _it's wrong. You're seven-years-old, you should know the difference between right and wrong by now."

"I know it's wrong. I just don't like the dreams. Severus, the man really hurts me, and so does the woman. She made me touch the burner once when I burnt food in the dream and then the man slammed my fingers in the door. I just wanted them to stop hurting me," the tears were back in his eyes again, and he didn't want to cry because he knew Severus didn't like it.

"I know," Severus said. "I will help you, I promise Potter. If you co-operate, and listen to me, you will not have those dreams."

* * *

  
Harry started to have sessions with Severus once a week. The man was very stern if Harry didn't listen. He tried his best to close his mind the way he was taught to. He wanted to tell Severus about the book from the library, but he remembered he wasn't supposed to have library books, so he didn't mention it.

He was kept busy with the school work that his tutor assigned him as well. He found that the work was very easy, and something told him that he'd been taught by a teacher before. He tried to recall if he had been, but he could not remember it, no matter how hard he tried.

When he wasn't doing his lessons, he was outside on warm days with either Hagrid or Madam Hooch. He was taught about different animals while he was in the Game Keepers care, and he was taught more flying techniques when he was with the Flying Instructor.

"Flying is in your blood you know," Madam Hooch told him. "Your father was a Chaser when he was here at Hogwarts. I always thought he would make a good Seeker as well. I'm sure someday you'll be on the school team."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Do you think I could play pofessional Quidditch someday?"

"Maybe one day you'll be recruited on a _pro_fessional team," she answered.

"Do you think it could be soon? Maybe in a few months I could play for the Chudley Cannons!"

This was the first time he had ever shared his fantasy with anyone.

"You are seven-years-old Harry. Besides, I don't think you want to play for that team. They haven't won in years," Madam Hooch said with some amusement.

"I know, but I'll be the best player in the world, and the youngest!" He said.

"Quidditch is a very brutal game, and although you are a very talented for your age, you are not ready for the professionals. Besides, even if someone your age _was _the best player in the world, they would not be recruited."

"Oh," Harry said sadly.

"But," she continued, "that does not mean you shouldn't practise. If you want to play Professional Quidditch someday, you _should _practise a lot. I will help you if I am not busy."

Charlie Weasley, who was a Seeker for Gryffindor, was impressed by Harry's ability as well.

"You know, you should come around to the Burrow next summer to play with my brothers and me. You could meet my brother Ron. You two will be in the same year when you start at Hogwarts.

Harry did want to meet the other Weasley children. Charlie had already introduced him to his younger brother Percy, but the boy was a bit stuffy. He wasn't anything like his older brothers at all. Harry had only met Bill a few times, but he thought the boy was very _cool. _He was the Gryffindor Prefect, but he wasn't boring or uptight.

"I'd like that," Harry said. "I really want to play with people my own age."

Charlie nodded. "Well, maybe I'll talk to my mum and the teachers for you. I think you need someone your own age to play with anyway. You seem to get into mischief, so maybe a playmate will help stop that."

"What if Ron don't like me?" Harry asked.

"He will. I told him all about you. The twins, Ron and Ginny really want to meet you. I'll tell you what, I'll write to my mum and I will talk to Professor McGonagall today."

Harry liked this idea. He thanked Charlie who seemed to act very brotherly. He was very jealous of the Weasley's. All he wanted was a real family who loved him. He knew the teachers cared about him, but he wanted to live in a real house where there was a mother, a father and siblings. The family he lived with would never beat him, or insult him, and he wouldn't have to sleep in a cupboard, or a cellar. The mother would not make him touch a hot burner on the stove for burning food… in fact; he wouldn't have to cook at all unless he wanted to.

* * *

A/N: About the corporeal punishment. I doubt I will have Harry be spanked, but if he does get a spanking, the teachers will be sure to help him realize they aren't being cruel. If I do decide to have him get spanked, it will be as a last resort (like with stealing since he's been warned not to do it) but mostly he will be grounded, lose privileges (or have toys taken away), or he'll have a time out.

And for Severus, I hope he was okay. I've never really written him before, so I hope I didn't have him too OOC. I want him to get along with Harry. He's not going to cuddle the boy a lot, but I wanted to write a scene where he held Harry on his lap at least once, just to show he has a soft side.

And I decided to let Harry know the truth about his parents because other children his age will know the truth. Children that young have a hard time keeping secrets, so it's best he know the truth so that no one slips.

Anyway, I hope you'll read and review. Thanks to those who have, and thanks to those who added me to favourites or alerts.


	6. Chapter 6

Albus didn't want to go through the memories again, but he wanted to find the moment when Harry had changed. When the boy arrived a year ago, they had gone through his memories to find out exactly what he had gone through. Before he turned six, he'd been beaten, but he hadn't been angry. In those days, he would stare at his aunt, uncle and cousin in a hopeful way. At times, when he was allowed to play he would still laugh. However, right before or after his sixth birthday, he turned into an angry child.

They wanted to wait until Harry was much older before they revealed to him that he really had been abused. Ever since the potion's incident, Albus had decided that they should be prepared to tell the boy truth at any given time. That meant that they would have to have better understanding of the abuse, and what had changed Harry from the pure and innocent child, to the angry one around his sixth birthday.

Albus didn't tell anyone, but one of the reasons for why he decided to erase Harry's memories was because he didn't want to admit that it had happened. The-Boy-Who-Lived was supposed to have a pure soul, he was supposed to be somewhat happy, but the Harry Potter they had taken in a year ago had not been pure. He had been very angry, hateful and he had tried to commit suicide at the age of six. A pure and innocent child would never try to kill themselves at such a young age.

Harry was supposed to be a person looked up to by the wizarding population, and he was supposed to be a good person. The boy they had in their care now would likely be supported and love by the general population, but the angry one from a year ago would not have been. If they had not interfered, he would have grown up into an angry destructive person, and he might have become another Dark Lord.

So to help out Harry, Albus was going to have to have a better understanding of what happened when he'd live with the Dursley's. That meant he was going to have to see the memories again. He didn't have to see it all though, he would skip through the violent parts, because he didn't want to see the boy being hit.

He stared down at the Pensieve on his desk and sighed. He picked up one of the bottled memories lined up nearby. It was from when Harry was three-years-old, the day when the abuse started. He opened the bottle, and poured the memory into the basin. It swirled around for a moment, and then Albus leaned forward into the Pensieve, so he could watch.

* * *

  
A very small Harry Potter was lying on the floor on his stomach in the living-room, he was colouring (scribbling was a better word for it maybe) a picture with broken crayons. Vernon Dursley was in an armchair, watching the evening news. Albus could hear rattling around in the kitchen, which probably meant that Petunia was making supper.

Dudley Dursley, who at the age of three was very chubby, wandered into the room. He looked around first, before he spotted his cousin. He waddled over very quickly and snatched the crayons from Harry.

"Mine!" Harry shouted, and he jumped up tearfully.

"Uh uh, used to be my cwayons!" Dudley answered.

"My birthday gift," Harry said. "Aunt 'Tuna gave me them. Pwease Dudey, mine!"

"No!" Dudley answered in a stubborn voice.

There was a whoosh of air that came from Harry, and suddenly Dudley was knocked to the floor. He was fine, but Albus guessed he was shocked, which was the reason why he began to cry.

"YOU!"

Harry jumped and faced his uncle.

"What have I told you about using those freaky powers? Now you're using them on my son? Well, I've had it Potter! This is the last straw! It was bad enough you let the neighbours see, but now you're hurting my son."

Albus knew that there were a couple of times when Harry had used the magic outside, but didn't realize it. The Dursley's hadn't hit him for it though. He knew this was the first time that the boy would be hit.

SMACK!

Harry started to cry, and he put a hand to his cheek where he'd been hit. It didn't end with the slap across the face. His uncle continued to hit him hard. Albus didn't want to see the beating, so he made the memory skip ahead to afterward.

When the beating was over, the small boy had a bloody nose, a bump on the side of his head, and he was slowly getting a black eye. His little bottom was very red. His trousers and underpants lay on the floor where his uncle had thrown them.

"Stop crying boy!" Uncle Vernon said angrily. "Unless you want to make it worse for yourself."

The boy tried to choke back his sobs, but his uncle had beaten his little body without mercy. So he continued to cry silently.

"I told you to stop crying! You deserve this; now take it like a man. We've told you over and over again not to use those freaky powers, and you didn't listen. Now you are hurting my Dudley with them, well guess what? I'm done being easy on you. From this day forward, you are going to get what you deserve."

"Vernon?" Petunia asked as she walked into the living-room, little Dudley had run to get her when Vernon started to hit Harry. "I told you we can't hit him. The neighbours will notice the bruises. You can't be that rough on him anyway, he's only three, Vernon, three. I know he's a freak but-"

"He hurt Dudley with his freakiness Petunia, and for no reason. Dudley was standing beside me, and _your _nephew pushed him down from across the room."

Albus frowned at the lie, but he guessed Vernon wanted to make Dudley look like the victim.

"What?" Petunia asked now in an angry voice, her face was as red as Vernon's now. "He did what?"

"He pushed Dudley with those powers, and he didn't have a reason for it," Vernon said. "He's getting worse Petunia, and until he stops, I am going to beat him for it. He's young yes, but if we can train him at this age to stop, he won't do it when he is older."

Petunia didn't seem to hear the rest of it. She walked over to Harry, who was still on the floor whimpering, and trying hard not to cry. She grabbed him by the arm and stood him up.

"How. Dare. You," she said angrily. "Don't you ever hurt my baby again!"

She grabbed a hold of his hair and pulled it. Harry started to scream, only to have both his aunt and uncle yell at him to shut up.

"Do what you must," Petunia finally said as she shoved Harry down.

"I don't want it in my house. When we took him in, we said we'd squash it out of him. Now he is hurting our son. I'm done being nice to this child. Until he learns not to use the powers, he will be beaten everyday," Vernon told her.

Petunia and Vernon left the room, but Dudley did something that shocked Albus, he crawled over to his whimpering cousin. He placed a hand on the battered backside and then crawled over to where he could see the tear streaked face.

"Cousin is okay?" He asked. "Don't be bad no more, Harry."

Albus knew that Dudley enjoyed watching his cousin be beaten, so this was surprise. He guessed since it was the first beating, the boy was upset. He knew later, the child would find different ways to get Harry punished.

Petunia returned a moment later with a wash cloth. She pulled Harry up again, and for a moment he looked afraid, as if he thought she would hurt him again.

"Vernon!" She shouted.

Although she had pulled his hair, he didn't appear to be as scared of her as he was of his uncle. He moved closer to cling to her when his uncle stomped back into the room.

"Next time you beat him, don't do it in here. There is blood in the carpet now. I don't know if I can get it out. It's also all over his shirt. Blood stains are very hard to get rid of."

"Force him to clean it," Vernon said. "If he doesn't, I'll beat him."

Harry whimpered again.

"No. He's had enough for one day. He's three-years-old. I'll see what I can do to get this out of the carpet. From now on, beat him in the kitchen."

She helped Harry put his underpants and trousers back on, and then told him that he could spend the rest of the night in the cupboard.

"No supper," she called after him. "You can eat tomorrow, _if _you're a good boy."

Albus left the Pensieve a few moments later. He knew that Harry had been starved before he had pushed Dudley with the magic, he just didn't know how often. He sighed, and sat down at his desk, he wanted to have a break before he watched the next memory. When he felt he was ready, he poured in a bottle of memory that had taken place on Harry's fifth birthday.

The time between when he had gotten his first beating, and his fifth birthday, he'd just been taught chores, but he had still remained somewhat happy. When they had viewed the memories the year before, they'd noticed that he'd still laughed at times, so Albus knew that in the year and half that passed, the boy remained pure and innocent, despite the beatings.

* * *

He was in the Dursley's kitchen this time. Little Harry Potter stood in the kitchen, staring at the table, which had some presents on it. He wore a look of complete shock, but happiness on his face.

Suddenly, Vernon entered the room, and Harry flinched. The boy ducked down his head and moved closer to Petunia, he had a look of terror on his face. He was still, at that point more terrified of his uncle than aunt, even though she equally abused him. Usually she stepped in if Vernon went to far though.

"Dudders will be down in a moment," Vernon told Petunia and then he looked down at Harry. "You can open your presents when he gets in here."

"I get presents? I actually get presents?" Little Harry asked excitedly.

"Of course you do, it's not everyday you turn five."

The look of shock on the little boy's face was comical, but Albus knew this would not end well. He knew that the Dursley's usually just gave the boy a broken toy for his birthday or for Christmases. However, since that fateful day when he'd accidentally pushed his cousin down with the magic, the Dursley's ignored Harry and beat him. Albus knew that the last Christmas, Harry had been locked away in the cupboard after he'd been whipped.

The small fat Dudley entered the room next. His eyes also widened in surprise when he saw all the presents. He hurried into a chair and stared at his parents in shock.

"I want presents!" he said. "How come I don't get presents?"

"You will," Vernon answered. "Well go on, boy, open them."

Little Harry climbed onto the chair excitedly. The boy had a black eye, he had a bald spot on his head, his arms were covered in cuts and bruises and he had limped on to the chair. However, he was very happy at the moment. His mouth was opened in a wide smile.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" He yelled. "I'm a good boy now aren't I?"

"Just open the present's boy," Vernon said.

Petunia slammed a pan down on the stove causing them all to jump, including Dumbledore. Harry was now ripping open the presents. He let out a loud squeal of excitement when he pulled out a remote control car.

"_I want that!_" Dudley whined.

"Now, now Dudders, have some patience," Vernon said.

Harry continued to yell out excitedly as he opened the rest of the gifts. When he unwrapped a video tape, he jumped off his chair to hug Petunia, who stared down at him grimly.

"HARRY GET TO WATCH TELLY!" He screamed excitedly.

He started to jump and down excitedly, still yelling enthusiastically. Harry had never really been allowed to watch television, even before the beatings had started. So it wasn't a surprise that the little boy was excited about it.

When all the gifts were unwrapped, Harry beamed at everyone in the kitchen.

"Thank you," he repeated gratefully. "Thank you so much. I'm sorry I was a bad boy, but I'm good now right? I get presents, I get to watch Telly! Harry is a good boy now!"

He looked over at Petunia.

"This is the best day of my life. Thank you auntie," he said.

"Actually," she said in a grave voice. "Those toys are for Dudley. Did you really think that we would give _you _gifts? Now, help Dudders take _his _toys up to his room. You can clean up this mess you made afterward."

Harry stared at his aunt in disbelief and then looked over at his uncle as if for confirmation.

"Not for Harry?" He asked.

"No," Vernon answered. "You're a terrible child. You're a freak, and you used those powers to push my son. Why would we give an ungrateful brat toys? You disgust me."

"Not for Harry?" Harry asked again, his small lip was trembling.

"Are you stupid? NO!" Vernon shouted.

"_Oh_!" Harry said and his shoulders slumped forward, he hung his head and he started to cry very loud. "_Oh! _Don't get pwesents!"

Suddenly Vernon was up on his feet, he went around the table too fast for a man his size. He gave the tiny boy a hard smack across the face. Albus quickly skipped through the memory as the man began to take off his belt.

It was later that night. Harry was at the table, barely eating. The depressed look on his face would break most people's hearts, and yet Petunia and Vernon didn't pay any attention to him. Once and a while, he would let out a small sob. At one point, he stopped eating, and just stared at his aunt and uncle. His green eyes were red and shiny as he looked at the adults, and then he lowered his head and let out another sob. Usually Vernon got angry with the boy if he cried, but he didn't seem to notice. If Albus had been there, he would have given the boy a hug.

When the supper was over, and the dishes were washed, the three Dursley's went into the living-room to watch television. Harry however made his quiet way up the stairs and into what must have been Dudley's room. On the floor in a pile were the gifts. Harry walked over to them, and picked up the remote control car, he hugged it tightly.

"Mine," he said and he started to sob hard.

He looked at each of the toys sadly before he left the room. He didn't make it very far; he was so grief stricken that he collapsed to the floor and cried into the carpet.

Albus believed that Harry's fifth birthday was when the boy started to lose the pureness he'd once possessed, but he also knew that the boy still laughed on occasion. He took another bottle of memory and poured it into the pensieve. It was the memory of when Harry had been pulled out of school.

* * *

  
The boys', Vernon and Petunia were all in the kitchen. Outside, there was snow falling softly by the window. Dudley was talking excitedly about the Christmas activities he had done during the day at school. Harry was at the table, stirring a bowl of thick mix.

"Not again," Petunia said in an annoyed voice. "After the Christmas Holidays, the boys' teacher has asked that we come in about _him._"

"Now for what?" Vernon asked disgusted. "Are you causing trouble at school, boy?"

"No," Harry answered. "I'm always a good boy. I'm learning to read! I know all my alphabet sounds, and I can spell some words that I couldn't before. I know how to add too!"

Albus knew Harry had been an average student in school, while he hadn't been a genius, he'd always beat Dudley when it came to grades. This had always angered the Dursley's, and usually Harry was punished for doing well in school.

"The teacher is complaining about his bruises again. I told you to stop leaving marks on him," Petunia said.

Harry indeed was covered in bruises. He had a black one on his cheek, he was currently wearing a nose cast, and there was a long scratch down the other cheek. There were also a few bald spots on his head. Albus had to wonder what was wrong with the teacher. Why didn't she look into it more? If he had seen a child in the state that Harry was in, he would have stepped in right away.

"You know what?" Vernon asked. "He doesn't need to go to school anymore. I'm tired of that woman accusing us of abusing him. He is too stupid to get anywhere in life anyway. Do you know that he asked me the other day how to spell _book_? What kind of idiot doesn't know how to spell book?"

"What are you saying?" Petunia asked.

"I'm saying that we should just pull him out of school," Vernon answered. "He isn't going to get anywhere in life anyway. The teacher is always bothering us, and you need help during the day. He can stay home and do chores instead. It's all he'll ever be good for."

Harry had stopped stirring whatever it had been that he'd been stirring before. It was as if he understood what was happening. He stared at his aunt and uncle in disbelief.

"I'm not going to school anymore?" He asked in a sad voice.

"No, you're too stupid to go," Vernon said.

"I know how to add, and I can read some words now," Harry said in a pleading voice.

"You've been at school for a year and a half now and you can't even spell the word _book_!" Vernon said. "You are stupid."

"Well, we can't just pull him out of school when the teacher wants a meeting with us," Petunia said. "And what are we supposed to tell the neighbours?"

"We'll tell his teacher that we sent him to another school, and we'll tell the neighbours that you are homeschooling him," Vernon answered.

Harry started to cry. Albus had seen a few of the memories of Harry at school. The boy loved school because he could play when he wanted, and he liked to sing with the rest of the class. Most children at the age of five (even Dudley Dursley) loved school because it was fun.

"Go to the cupboard, now!" Petunia snapped at Harry. "You are an ungrateful little brat, and you can't handle the fact that you are finally getting what you deserve."

Something changed in Harry's eyes at the moment. It was as if some of the light left. He stared at his aunt sadly, and then he left the room, still crying.

When Albus left that memory, he sat at his desk contemplating for a moment. He believed that was another point when Harry lost some of the pureness he'd had. He'd seen the change in the boy's eyes.

There were only two memories left, and he believed they were the key to the mystery. The next memory was Harry's sixth birthday. In this memory, Vernon forced him to watch murder scenes and people killing themselves. This was probably how Harry had gotten the idea of suicide in his mind, because how else would he understand it?

The next memory was probably a couple days after Harry's sixth birthday. The boy was cleaning the hinge side of the kitchen door, when Dudley suddenly slammed the door. Harry let out a terrible scream. Vernon appeared out of the living-room and stared down at the boy angrily.

"What are you doing making all that racket?" He snapped.

"Please," Harry pleaded. "Get him to open the door. I might lose my fingers, or they might be broken! Help me."

Harry was smart for his age if he knew that, Albus thought to himself.

"_What's_ wrong?" Vernon asked, he had small smirk on his face.

"My fingers, please Uncle Vernon, help!"

"I don't understand what's wrong," Vernon said. "Ah, well, my show is on. Make sure that door is clean, you know your aunt doesn't like fingerprints."

"Owooo," Harry moaned and then he glared hatefully after his uncle who had already left the hallway. "Oh I hate you!"

The door suddenly opened and Dudley peered out. Harry stared down at his fingers, which miraculously healed themselves. When his aunt or uncle hurt him, the injuries never healed, but if Dudley hurt him, or if Harry hurt himself, his magic would take over for him.

Albus saw the change in Harry's eyes at that moment. It was an intense look of hatred as he glanced toward to living-room door. He was shaking, but it was with anger that time.

"Oh I hate you Uncle Vernon, I hate you so much!"

He turned and headed for his cupboard.

The moment when Harry realized that his uncle enjoyed seeing him in pain was when he'd lost all hope. The memories Albus had seen before had all led up to the hatred he'd worn on his face that day, and then the last memory seemed to be the final straw. One thing he didn't understand was that Harry claimed to hate his aunt and uncle but yet on Christmas Eve he had said:

"_I need to go back home. They hurt me, but they were helping me. I don't wanna live here. I don't wanna do magic! I wanna be normal. They have to hurt me to make me normal!"_

The odd part was, Vernon had not enjoyed beating Harry at first. In the beginning, he would confess to Petunia that he was worried about breaking the boy. However, as time went on, something changed in the man, and he soon enjoyed seeing his nephew cry out in pain.

* * *

  
Albus waited for Vernon to be brought out into the visitor area. Petunia and Vernon were both to separate muggle prisons. Dudley had been sent to a foster family, but he had recently been adopted. It was good to know that the youngest Dursley was being taken care of. Although the boy had been cruel to his cousin, he could not be blamed.

Vernon was wearing orange coveralls. He had lost some weight during the ten month's he'd been in prison. He also had dark shadows under his eyes. The last time he'd seen Albus, he had flipped out, but this time he just stared at the Headmaster with dull eyes. He barely noticed the guard who walked beside him.

"Do you know where my wife and son are?" Vernon asked when he took a seat. "I just want to know they're okay…"

"Your wife is at a woman's prison, and your son was recently adopted by a nice family," Albus said. "From what I hear, he has lost weight."

"You mean they're starving him?" Vernon asked in an alarmed voice, his face took on its characteristic purple.

"No, not at all. He's been on a diet since he left your care. You must know your son was overweight, Mr. Dursley. He was one hundred pounds, which is not a healthy weight at all for a six-year-old. Children at that age are usually about forty-five pounds… I may be off by a few pounds. You might be pleased to know that Harry, your nephew has gained weight. He was severely underweight when we found him, it was a wonder he was even alive. He only weighed twenty-nine pounds. According to Madam Pomfrey's weight chart, he weighed about as much as a child about two or three-years-old. That's rather alarming if you think about it. I guess it wasn't too much a surprise when I remember how much his rib bones stuck out in the front and back."

"Is that why you're here?" Vernon asked. "Well I've been in this hellhole for ten months, and I've had time to think. I know what we did to that child was wrong, even if he was a freak… we shouldn't have beaten him, and we should have fed him more."

Albus stared down at his long fingers.

"Do you regret what you did because you are in jail, or because you truly feel remorse?" He asked.

"I feel remorse… look, I know your lot think that my intentions were to starve and beat that child, but they weren't. When we took him in, we decided we would raise him to be a normal boy. If I had taken him to beat him, I would have started when he was younger, instead of when he was a threat to my son."

Albus scrutinized Vernon's face. The man was telling the truth, which was shocking. Ten months ago, Mr. Dursley had not felt any guilt for what he had put Harry through. According to him, the boy had deserved every beating he'd gotten. Now however, Vernon _did _feel remorse for it.

"In the beginning, you beat that child because of the magic, you did it every day," Albus said. "However, years later, you enjoyed it. We have a way of looking at every detail of a person's memory, and you laughed a few times after you beat Harry. That is the reason why I came here; I would like to understand how you could get enjoyment out of beating an innocent child, even if you thought that said child was a freak and unnatural."

Vernon didn't answer for a moment. He stared down at the table, which had a lot of chips in it. He looked around the room at the guards (who couldn't hear the conversation) and then back at Albus.

"Why does it matter now? You got what you wanted, my wife and I are in jail," Vernon said angrily.

"If you truly feel remorse for what you did to that boy, maybe I could use your help. After we took Harry in, he wouldn't respond to us, and for a number of reasons. First of all, he believed that he didn't deserve to be loved, but he didn't want to be loved by _our lot _as you so kindly put it, because he knew what we were. You put it into his head that magic was bad, and he didn't want to be around us, and he didn't want to be magical.  
"We tried our best for four months to convince him that there was nothing wrong with magic, but he just grew more and more bitter. He would talk to us about the abuse, and he would explain to me what the pictures were in his 'Hurt Book' but he wouldn't respond to the love we gave him. We tried to explain to him what the benefits of magic were, but he wouldn't listen.  
"Around Christmas, we all tried to show him how much we loved him, but he ran from us. He ran into the corridors and shouted that he was bad, abnormal and that he should die. He then ran up to our Astronomy tower and tried to jump off. He likely got the idea of suicide because of the video you made for his sixth birthday. A six-year-old should never have those thoughts, and we couldn't stand it, so I did what I thought would help, I erased all of his memories of you, your wife and Dudley and we told him that he grew up in the castle.  
"It worked at first, but now he is having nightmares of his life with you, and he doesn't understand why he has them. Someday we will have to tell him the truth. He will probably ask me why you and your wife did what you did, and if he knows you feel remorse, it might make some difference."

Vernon stared at him with a dumbstruck look on his face.

"What do you mean you erased his memories of us?" He asked. "How can you make a child forget three years of abuse?"

"Magic," Albus answered simply, Vernon flinched at the word.

"See, that's why I find that that freaky stuff to be unnatural. You can manipulate people by erasing their memories, and you can probably put false stuff in their heads-" Albus gave a nod to that "and I don't think that's right."

"We normally don't use it to manipulate people. There are some wizards, such as the one who murdered your nephew's parents who would, but most of us don't abuse our gift."

"And what do you mean by hurt book? You mentioned that at the trial as well," Vernon said and he glanced around at the guards again uneasily.

"Shortly before you and your wife pulled Harry out of school, he stole a couple notebooks from you. One book, he drew a fantasy life which he pretended he had, and the other he used to document the abuse. I'm not sure why, I know some people write out their feelings because it helps them, so maybe by drawing what you did to him, it helped. He printed on the outside of it the words: _Hurt Book_. I'm not sure if you recall this or not, but he asked you how to spell the word, book. Before he asked you that, he had asked your wife how to spell hurt."

Vernon was nodding, and then he looked thoughtful.

"You say he drew pictures of the abuse?"

"After a beating, once he calmed down, he would draw a picture of what you did to him in the book. The drawings are messy and sloppy, but we usually could understand what was happening in the picture, and if we couldn't, we asked him. Again, I'm not too sure why. Perhaps it helped him cope."

After Minerva had taken Harry away, Albus went to the Dursley's to get whatever possessions Harry had. In the cupboard under the steps, he'd found Harry's fantasy book and the Hurt Book underneath the mattress. He remembered on Harry's good days, they would go through them. One of the pictures was a red swirl with a traced hand over it in black crayon.

"_What is this picture here, Harry?" He'd asked one afternoon while they went through the book._

"_My hand on a burner," Harry answered. "I burnt food, so Aunt Petunia made me touch the hot burner and then she kicked my tummy but I didn't want to draw that," he turned the page and there was a stick Harry with an arm touching a rectangle, "my uncle slammed my hand in the door after, and then he made me sleep in the small damp stone room for a long long time! He told me I should be dead. I wish I was. I am an abnormal stupid freak and I don't deserve love."_

"So why do you plan to tell him what happened?" Vernon asked. "If you erased his memories of us, than why tell him the truth?"

"We want him to come to terms with the abuse, but when he is ready for it. Right now, I am trying to get information so that when the time comes, we can help him. This is the reason I came to see you today. Harry will remember everything once we tell him the truth, and if he knows that you feel remorse for what you did, it could make all the difference in the world. I want to know how you went from beating him to prevent him from doing magic to when you enjoyed beating him," Albus said.

"I don't know," Vernon said and he was angry again. "I wish none of it had happened. I just want to serve my time and get on with my life. Isn't it enough that I feel bad for what I did? Every day I think about what I did to him, and I just can't understand what kind of person I used to be. I hated the child, I hated the magic, but I should not have abused him. It's took me about six months to realize that. The first few months in prison I spent the time hating him, and blaming him, but after I thought about it more, I regretted it. Maybe it was because as each day went by I hated him more and more… I just don't know."

"Visiting time is up," one of the guards suddenly said.

Vernon stood up and glared at Albus again.

"If you want to give that child peace, don't tell him the truth. Just let him live the fantasy world you made up for him."

Vernon Dursley had certainly changed, he thought imagination was a bad idea.

* * *

  
The small classroom had children's pictures on the wall, above the blackboard there were the letters of the alphabet. Four groups of four desks were spread around the room. Each had a name taped to the top. There was a play area, a craft's area, a paint center and reading center.

A blond young woman was at a teacher's desk, marking papers. Albus made his way over to the woman, who looked up at him with surprise. He was used to the look of shock the Muggles usually gave him because of his appearance.

"I'm Albus Dumbledore," he said. "We have a meeting today."

"Oh yes, I was just… my name is Grace Lumpkin. You said you wanted to talk about Harry Potter?"

Albus nodded, she told him to have a seat in the chair in front of her desk, so he sat down. She didn't look older than twenty-five, so he guessed she hadn't been a teacher for very long.

"You'll know by now what went on in his home?" Albus asked.

Her face darkened, and she set down the pen that she had used to mark what looked to be maths papers.

"I always suspected," she said. "I don't know how many times I reported his injuries. I think Vernon Dursley pulled some strings, because everyday I told the school counselor about how worried I was about Harry. He was always covered in bruises, he had a broken arm for a while, and once it was healed, his nose was suddenly broken, I think they must have pulled his hair out because he always had bald spots, and he got depressed around home time… he was a delightful child during the day. He was more excited about free time than the rest of the children, so I expect he wasn't allowed to play when he was at home."

"You did report the abuse?" Albus asked. "The reason I came here today was because I want to know why no one seemed to notice what was happening to him while he was in the Dursley's care."

"I knew something was wrong," Grace said angrily. "It was obvious. I haven't been a teacher for very long, but I've seen abused children and Harry was obviously abused. I wrote letters to Petunia Dursley almost everyday, demanding that she come in and explain to me what was happening. After Christmas, she came in told me that they had taken Harry to another school. I believe that was a lie… I think they took him out so they could abuse him more-" Albus nodded gravely, but she continued "because I saw him again that summer, I think the beginning of August. They were all in London; Harry had his head covered by a hood at first, but then his cousin Dudley pulled it off. I was shocked because of the amount of bruises that covered his face. He was almost bald by that point, his scalp had scabs on it, and he was limping. He also had a very haunted look on his face. I called the cops as soon as I got home. Apparently someone else had reported the abuse though, because when they went to investigate, Harry was gone."

Grace was almost in tears by that point. Albus felt a lot better knowing that Harry's school teacher had tried to help the boy out. He did know that Vernon Dursley could pull strings when he wanted to, so likely he had done something at the school to stop people from investigating.

"I used to know Harry's parents," Albus explained. "Six-years-ago, when they were killed in the car accident, I thought it was best to leave him with his remaining relatives. I sent one of my friends in to check on him, and she found him abused, so she took him away."

"How is he now?" Grace asked.

"He is happier, and he has gained weight, although he is still underweight. He was sixteen pounds underweight when we found him, but now it's only about five. He is having therapy sessions," Albus answered.

"Good," she said. "He deserves to be happy after what he went through. I just don't understand how someone can willingly beat a child. The reason I became a teacher is because I love children. Harry is one of those children that teachers look forward to having because everything excited him. When he learned to read better that year, and I praised him for it, he actually screamed in excitement. When we sang songs in class, he was the loudest. He was his happiest in the morning. It wasn't until the end of the day that I saw any sadness on his face. In fact, sometimes he would cry. When I found out he wasn't coming back, I was upset. I had never met a child before him who got so excited over a simple compliment, and I miss that."

Albus nodded, and explained most of what Vernon had done to Harry, including fifth and sixth birthdays.

"I teach at a school as well, in fact, when Harry is eleven, he'll be going there as well. I have seen children who have obviously been mistreated or abused through out the years, but Harry was the worst case I have ever seen…"

And he blamed himself, because it had been he who put Harry in the situation. At the time it seemed right because of the blood wards…

"I just…" and Grace shook her head. "Did they ever say why they did it? They adored Dudley, their son."

"I think on some level, it had to do with Harry's mother," Albus explained. "From what I know, Petunia and Lily didn't get along. I think Petunia must have resented having to raise her sister's child… and I'm not sure about Vernon Dursley."

They spoke a little longer, before Albus left. He was thinking about buying Harry another toy.

* * *

  
A/N: About the weight, I went by what I found on the internet. I'm not too sure if they are that accurate though. I know a nine year old girl who only weighs 50 pounds (according to the chart, she should be 63 pounds) but she isn't mistreated… in fact, she can eat as much as adult can. I just went by an average weight chart I found though.

I promise I'll write happier chapters for now. I just wanted to show Harry's insecurities, and the abuse he went through. He's still going to feel insecure because he can't remember the first six years of his life, but he'll grow to be a happier child. Now because Severus is helping him, he won't have the dreams unless he is stressed out.

And you'll get to see more of the Weasleys! I hope you all look forward to that, and you'll see more of Remus as well.

I know the first few chapters have been very dramatic, but I promise to cut down on that for a while. There won't be anymore Harry being abused chapters for a while anyway. I am going to keep him seven for a little while longer, just to show him having a happy childhood, and meeting the Weasley's and then I'll probably age him to ten turning eleven.

Oh, and I plan to edit the first five chapters. I was reading through them the other day and noticed mistakes, and some sentences don't make sense. I don't know how I miss the mistakes the first time I read chapters, but I usually do, and I don't notice until I've read the chapter again about a week later.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry could barely eat, but he knew he should otherwise the teachers wouldn't let him go. He was nervous yes, and he had nightmares the night before, but he still wanted to go. He was sure that he had not left Hogwarts grounds (other than the occasional trip to Hogsmeade) in the six years that he'd lived at the castle. So although the thought of meeting the four other Weasley children terrified him, he wanted to go.

Minerva was very observant, and so she noticed that he was barely eating his bacon and eggs.

"Are you feeling sick?" She asked, and felt his forehead.

"No," he answered and shoved her hand a little harder than he meant to. "I'm just..."

He thought about the dream he'd had the night before. The four youngest Weasley children had made fun of him; they called him an unnatural freak. It was what the mean man and his wife called him in his old nightmares. He thought he understood now why they called him that, it was because he couldn't remember the first six years of his life.

The students at Hogwarts all liked him (the ones he had met did at any rate) but they didn't know about his memory problem. He knew from some of the conversations they had that they could remember things from when they were three or four years old... so he knew that there was something wrong with himself.

The younger Weasley children were closer to his age than the students at Hogwarts; these were people who could be potential friends. What if one of them brought up something they remembered from when they were younger? What if somehow they found out that he couldn't remember anything past Christmas of last year? What if he accidentally let slip that he couldn't remember anything?

Professor Trelawney told him that sometimes when a person had a dream; it was their subconscious telling them something. He didn't know what that meant at first, so he'd ask Severus who took the time to explain during their meetings. He understood now, and he was sure that the reason he had dreams about the man and woman hurting him was because he was an unnatural freak. It was his subconscious telling him that he wasn't normal, and never would be...

"Harry?" Minerva asked.

"What if they don't like me?" He muttered.

"Why wouldn't they like you?" She asked. "You get along with the students here. You've made friends with the older Weasley boys."

He knew from being around the students that big kids usually adored little kids. The sixth and seventh years thought the first and second years were little cuties. However, a lot of them didn't get along with people their own age. So he wasn't surprised that they all liked him.

"I've never met kids my own age," Harry answered.

"The Weasley's are a big family," she said and put a hand on his shoulder. "They are very accepting of new people."

He knew that wasn't true, Percy, Charlie and Bill didn't get along with the Slytherin's. The two oldest boys had gotten into fights with other students. They weren't always accepting of others.

"But if you don't want to go-" she started to say.

"No," Harry interrupted, "I wanna go, I'm just... nervous."

"You'll be fine," she assured him. "The Weasley children are ones I'd rather you meet before you start school rather than some of the... others."

Severus was seated on his other side, reading the Daily Prophet. When Minerva said the last part, she shot a look at him. Harry knew teachers weren't supposed to be judgemental about students but also he knew that they could be. From the conversations he had listened in on, he knew Severus wanted him to meet three boys that were his age. Minerva was against this meeting, and had asked Grandpa Albus not to let Harry meet them. He didn't know why that was, except it wasn't the boys she was against him meeting, it was their fathers.

He tried to finish the rest of breakfast. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table. It was Saturday morning, so not many students were up yet. He scanned the students who were awake, but didn't see any of the Weasley's. The night before, Charlie and Bill had assured him that their brothers and sister were looking forward to meeting him, but he was still worried.

When Minerva was finished eating, they went to her office. He was going to use the floo network to travel to the Weasley's. By that point, he knew how to use it, but he had never gone through it by himself. He hesitated before he threw a handful of powder into the lit fireplace. Once the flames were green, he stepped in and called out:

"The Burrow!"

He closed his eyes as he started to spin quickly. He knew if he kept them open, he would feel nauseous, and he already felt a little sick. It wouldn't make a good impression if he threw up in front of people who were supposed to be his new friends. He hadn't learned how to keep himself from falling when he got to his destination, so he fell down when he stopped spinning.

Embarrassed he kept his head down when he heard several laughing voices. He believed they were laughing at him, by that point he didn't know that the Weasley children were very talkative and cheerful at meals.

"Oh Harry dear," someone said.

He kept his head down as someone grabbed a hold of him and helped him up. The room had suddenly gone very quiet, so he couldn't help but look up. Staring down at him was a woman with red hair who was slightly plump, but she had a very warm smile.

"Minerva and the boys told me you would be coming around this time. Have you eaten? We are just finishing breakfast," she said.

"I ate before I came ma'am," he answered in a soft voice, "but thank you."

"Your welcome," she said and turned him to the table where five people were seated.

The man had thinning hair which was also red... he understood why the three boys he had met so far all had red hair. Their siblings had also inherited it, along with the freckles. Two identical faces were grinning at him, they were slightly older. The younger boy was staring at him, but he was still eating. The little girl looked at him, but then looked down at the table quickly.

"Have a seat Harry, even if you have eaten," Mr. Weasley said and he patted the seat of the chair on his left.

Harry slowly made his way to the table. When he sat down, the youngest boy smiled at him.

"'ello 'arry-" he began.

"Ron! What have I told you about eating with your mouth full?" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Ron's ears went red, but he swallowed quickly.

"Hi, my name is Ron," he said and smiled. "Charlie told me that you're seven like me!"

Harry nodded wondering if Ron would accept him. He really hoped so. He wasn't normally a shy boy, but meeting kids his own age was scary.

"My name is Fred, and this is my brother George!" One of the twins said.

"Actually," Mr. Weasley said with a grin, "that's George," he said and pointed to the twin who had spoken "and that's Fred. They like to confuse new people by pretending to be the other."

"Aw dad, wreck all of our fun!" George said.

"Harry is here to meet new friends," Mrs. Weasley scolded. "It isn't right to confuse him. Now behave, boys."

"Sorry," George answered but he was smirking.

"Once you get to know them, you'll be able to tell them apart," Mr. Weasley said. "Although sometimes we have a hard time telling them apart ourselves. However, they won't be playing that game anymore today."

"It's okay," Harry answered.

He was sure that they wouldn't want to be friends with him after awhile anyway. Professor Trelawney also said that dreams could predict the future. Although the children in his dream didn't look like the ones at the table, he was still worried that it would come true.

"Charlie told us that you're good at playing Quidditch," Ron said. "Wanna play after we eat?"

"Yeah, we'll go down to the Quidditch Pitch!" Fred added. "He said you're really good on a broom. He says you might be a Seeker someday."

"You have a Quidditch Pitch?" Harry asked in surprise.

He knew that Charlie played Quidditch during the holidays, but he didn't know that people had actual Quidditch Pitches. He wished that he had a real home, with parents. Maybe he could have had his own then.

"Well, it's not really one," George corrected. "But we have an orchard that we play Quidditch in. The Muggle's can't see us there 'cause of all the trees. There are four of us, so we can play two on two."

Harry glanced over at Ginny. She hadn't said a word so far. She was staring down at the table, eating her breakfast. Wasn't she going to play as well or was she too shy?

"Don't forget about your sister," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Ginny can't play Quidditch with us," Fred said. "She can watch and that's it."

Although she was staring at the table, she lifted her head up enough to send a glare at her brothers. She gave Harry another glance before she quickly stared down at the table again.

After the Weasley children were done eating, they took their plates to the sink and then the twins motioned for Harry to follow. Although Ginny didn't speak, she joined them.

"So what is it like to live at Hogwarts?" Ron asked as they went out a door and into the yard.

Harry was shocked by the state of the Weasley's yard. Although he hadn't been to another person's home, he was sure that the gardens wouldn't be so full of weeds, the grass so overgrown and everything so… messy. There was a rusty old cauldron on the back porch, and a pair of boots by the steps. The house he had dreamt about, where the people hurt him, had been very neat. In a lot of the dreams, he himself had to weed the gardens.

He kind of liked the clutter though… maybe real families lived that way. As he turned to look at everything, his next shock was the _house_ once he got a good look at it. He thought it might have once been an old stone pig pen, but someone had added stories to it over time. They were all added on so crookedly that Harry had to wonder if it was all held up by magic. He hadn't seen many houses before, but he was sure that they didn't look like the one he was seeing.

The Weasley children were watching him survey everything.

"Not as big as Hogwarts probably, but it's home," George said when Harry didn't say anything.

"It's the nicest house I've ever seen," he said.

Who cared what the house looked like? A real family who loved each other lived in it. He would give anything to live in one, even if it looked as odd as the one in front of him. Harry looked back at the Weasley's who didn't seem shocked by this statement. In fact, they exchanged glances as if they knew something that he didn't.

"I can believe that," Fred said and he looked angry for a moment, while Ginny looked up at him with what he thought was pity.

"I like living at Hogwarts," Harry said to answer Ron's question.

This answer just caused the boys to ask more questions. As they walked across the yard, Harry answered every question that he could. They seemed shocked when they found out that he got along with Severus. He knew that the teacher didn't like Gryffindors, so the twins, Ron and Ginny had probably heard stories from their older brothers about the man.

"Do you always just stay at the castle, or do you go anywhere else?" Ginny asked.

Harry didn't answer her for a moment because he was shocked that she had said anything at all.

"Sometimes the teachers take me to Hogsmeade with them. This is the first time I've been to a person's house though," he told her. "I think this is far away from the castle."

"Yeah it is," Ron answered. "We have to go all the way to London to take Percy, Charlie and Bill to the train station and then they have to for a long ride to Hogwarts."

"It takes all day," George said. "The train leaves at eleven in the morning, and Bill said that they don't get to the school until dinner time."

"I dunno how they sit for so long. I wouldn't be able to sit there all day," Fred said. "And we go in two years, so we'll see you a lot!"

"Harry came here through the fireplace," Ron said. "How come the kids at Hogwarts can't do that?"

Harry had asked that question once. He knew that it was faster to go through the floo network, or to use a port-key (which could transport a number of people to one location to another quickly) but Grandpa Albus had explained it to him.

"Too many kids for floo," Ginny answered.

"Yeah!" Fred said and he pushed Ron. "You can only go through the fireplace one at a time. It would be bad if a lot of people went through it at the same time!"

The Weasley's had led him past the garden and a pond to an orchard. Once they were surrounded by the trees, Harry understood how they played Quidditch. It wasn't exactly a Pitch, but he would trade the one at Hogwarts to play in this one if he could belong to a family.

"This is where we play," George told him. "You three wait here, we'll go get the brooms and a ball."

They turned and headed back in the direction that they had come. Harry looked around at all the rotten apples that were on the ground. Ginny walked over to one of the trees to sit down.

"How come Ginny doesn't play?" Harry asked Ron.

"Cause she is a girl," Ron answered as he bent down to pick up an apple. "Sometimes we have an apple fight with the squishy ones," and he squeezed it in his hand "but mum doesn't like it when we do. It's fun though."

"Girls play Quidditch at Hogwarts all the time," Harry told Ron as the boy dropped the apple to the ground, then he wiped his hand on his pants.

"Yeah but they are big girls. Ginny is too little, and she whines a lot. Plus we don't know if she can fly too good. If she fell and hurt herself, mum would blame us because we're the big brothers. She says we are supposed to look out for her. One time she fell in the pond and mum yelled at all of us, even though we all weren't with her, just Charlie. I guess it's cause she is the only girl and the youngest," Ron answered.

Harry remembered Charlie telling him that Ginny was six, so he didn't understand why that was too little to play Quidditch. She looked a lot smaller than a six-year-old (though he could only go by his own height and the Dudley kid in his dreams) so maybe they meant her height.

The twins returned momentarily with four brooms and a very old Quaffle. They handed a broom to Ron and Harry (Fred had the ball) before they kicked off to fly up. He forgot about Ginny as he too flew up in the air glad to finally be playing Quidditch with kids his own age.

* * *

Minerva spent her Saturday feeling anxious about Harry. It would be his first time around a family. What if it brought back some memories? She also knew that he was very scared about meeting people his own age. However, she had been wrong to worry. When Harry returned that evening (after the Weasley's gave him dinner) he talked non-stop about everything he had done.

"And they have Garden Gnomes," Harry was saying. "After lunch, they showed them to me. Ron says sometimes they have to de-gnome the garden, but they didn't do it today. The Gnomes say a lot of bad words."

He had spent the last hour telling her about how they had played Quidditch, and then they had an apple fight. He came back wearing different clothes that he was worn there and his own in a bag. Minerva looked at them before sending them to the laundry.

"You mean you threw apples at each other?" She'd asked surprised.

"They were squishy old ones. Some had bugs on them. Mrs. Weasley wasn't happy about it. She don't like apple fights," Harry explained.

"I should hope not," she's answered.

It was nice to hear him talk to excitedly though. The boy deserved to have fun after what he'd been through. The Weasley children were good playmates for him, and if Molly allowed it, she would send him there as often as he wanted.

She was also pleased with the children. Her other worry during the day was that one of them might accidentally slip that they knew Harry had been abused. Although they didn't know the full story, they did know that he came from an abusive home but he didn't remember any of it. Molly Weasley hadn't wanted the two youngest to know about it, but with seven children running around, it was hard to keep some stuff secret.

Luckily they didn't know the full details about why Harry didn't remember everything. Charlie and Bill knew that he had tried to commit suicide, and Percy possibly knew as well, but the others didn't. Molly had assured her that they only knew what they needed to know, but nothing gory. The three older ones were forbidden to talk about it. As young as they were, it was shock that they had been able to not let slip what they knew. They also knew that he was The-Boy-Who-Lived. Every child did.

At first she had been against sending Harry to play with them because of what they knew, but everyone knew how unhappy the boy was. Albus reasoned that children sometimes understood more than adults thought they did, and it would be safe to send him there. Charlie, Bill and Molly had also convinced her that it would be okay.

"You don't know my siblings," Bill told her. "Ron and Ginny are little, but they know when they shouldn't talk about something. None of them will say anything to Harry about the abuse or you-know-who."

Even though Harry slept in her quarters, she wasn't the only one who could make decisions for him. With so many people wanting the boy to meet other kids, she had to go with it, and she was glad he had gone. It was the first time she had seen his eyes lit up with so much excitement. If playing with kids his own age did that, she was all for it. He was too young to be depressed after all.

* * *

A/N: So I didn't think I would be making notes on this story while I didn't have the internet, so I am also surprised I am getting this chapter up. This came to me during the long car ride from my old town to my new city during the move. I worked on this in the car because everyone was too grumpy to talk. I actually had the apple fight written down on a separate page (it's what inspired this whole chapter), but it blew away. Maybe someone got to read it at any rate. I can't remember everything I had written down for it though, but I had the rest of this chapter written out. If I can remember it and if people want to see it then maybe I can add to this chapter, or give it a stand alone story. However, I wanted to type this up quickly. I don't have anymore idea's for this story right now, but to anyone that reads Complications, I am halfway through a new chapter for that story.


	8. In my defense

This is to Copier. I wish you would have signed in to leave your review, so I could have replied to you. Anyone else can ignore this. This isn't a chapter. I am hoping that Copier will continue to follow this story so that he/she can read this. If you do, leave a review so I know when I can delete this chapter.

**This story copies the boy named freak!**

So I went looking for the story you were talking about. I've never heard of it before now, but I wanted to see what you were talking about. My story is different from The Boy Named Freak. In that story, Harry grows up believing that his name is Freak. In my story, Harry knows what his name is.

**the abuse**

This is a story about Harry getting abused... if I was copying someone, I would be copying everyone who has written a Harry Potter is abused story. There are a lot of them on !

**the hair pulling**

This is something I used to do to my younger brother when I was six (kids can be cruel) and he was four. If he made me mad, I would pull his hair. It was a mean thing to do. When I was writing this story, I remembered what I did when I was a little kid and decided to add it, except make it worse. I never ripped his hair out, I just pulled it. I've had my hair pulled as well, and it hurts a lot. I wanted to portray the Dursley's as monsters that would do that to a little boy.

**the fact that the dursleys beat harry after he hurts dudley with the magic**

I didn't want Harry to be abused for no reason, so I wanted to pick a reason besides the magic that would make the Dursley's so cruel... and so I had him do something to Dudley with it. Think about it, the Dursley's (Vernon more than Petunia because she grew up with it because of Lily) are probably scared of the magic because they don't understand it. So when Vernon sees Harry push Dudley, it scared him and all reason went out of his head. Parents are very protective of their kids, and the Dursley's didn't want Harry in the first place.

**the starvation**

The Dursley's starved Harry in the books. Maybe not as much as I had Harry starved in my story, but they did starve him. Did you read Chamber of Secrets at all? So if I stole this, it was from the books.

**the fact that harry doesn't go to school**

Harry never went to school in The Boy Named Freak. I had Harry pulled of school to show why he slowly grew bitter. At school he could do whatever he wanted, he could play, he didn't get beaten and the teachers liked him. So when the Dursley's pulled him out of school because of his nosy teacher, he got even more depressed then he was before. He didn't have his escape anymore.

**the dursleys calling harry abnormal**

This is something else that the Dursley's probably called Harry. Petunia called Lily that, and Vernon called the powers abnormal and freaky, so there is a chance that they also called Harry an abnormal freak. So if I was taking that from anything, it was from the books.

I've only read two (well now three) Harry Potter abuse stories. One of them was when Sirius takes Harry from the Dursley's when he was eight and one where Harry was locked in a cage at the age of seven. I think on this site, you're going to find stories very similar to others. There are 395,070 Harry Potter stories.

So yeah, before you accuse me of stealing idea's, get your facts straight.

BTW after reading The Sequel to The Boy Named Freak, I think I understand now why people aren't really reading this story. The abuse in it was hard to read. So if anyone decided to read this note anyway, I promise that that's it in this story for the time being. When Harry remembers his past there will be some scenes, but it won't be so bad and it won't be until after his third year. For now, even though Harry is still going to be very insecure, and he'll still have nightmares, I won't go into detail about them. I only wrote the scenes because I wanted people to understand why Harry turned into a bitter child who would try to kill himself when he was only six-years-old. Kids at that age would never consider something like that.


End file.
